My habit has been to hide
once I know he’s around,
to deny his presence, the fright that
springs from every cell,
my body on scream.
I harm myself forcing me
to do his will – ‘Keep going’
I screech cruelly, soundlessly,
‘so what if it hurts,
You cannot afford to feel’.
At 3 AM I shoveled ice
with strength I no longer have
driven by his demonic voice.
He’d already murdered the day before.
My grouse whose delicate spiral
footprints brought joy to
my heart became his first kill.
After exhaustion hit
he refused to let me shut the door.
No boundaries for him,
He’s coming in.
He flies through the sky
on smoke fouled air.
Vulnerability is the crack
he’s waiting for…
a frightened woman
excites his game.
…
A carpenter came today
and couldn’t
explain why the storm door
refused to close.
It took another predator sighting
to identify who was behind
the forced opening.
He was coming in
and wanted me to know it.
Have I no defense at all?
Paralyzed, my stomach churns
Head aches, body can’t rest,
a malignant force drones on.
I expose him for who he is.
I stand what I know.
I pray to the Mother Root
(Mary, Birds, beloved Tree)
cast your circle around me.
Three times three.
Conjure up beneficent
Man powers to stop him.
Father Root.
Stop him at the Threshold!
Wield that thunderbolt.
Cast your circle around me.
Three times three.
Banish him!
Who would harm an old
woman who seeks only peace,
loves animals, plants,
the Earth ?
Only a Psychopath.
Listen please – Help her please.
She prays through poetry for your Grace.
Postscript: this post had only been on my blog for about ten minutes when some caring person emailed me to ask if I was all right saying that the post evoked something scary in her.
What follows is my response:
Your gut response is probably associated with knowledge of the predator – we have so many on the outside these days, but this one is internal – and it’s important to name it, I think.
It may be that this force is increasing in its ability to frighten, paralyze, or drive a person – I don’t know but I am aware that it is not just personal. Endless distractions and busy behavior are ways to hide from this presence in our lives.
During the winter months it is especially active in me because it’s getting harder to take care of myself – and when this force is operating it pushes me to extremes.
This woman names this predator force Patriarchy, and I must agree…. both women and men are struggling with this voice on the inside and the outside, and its worth repeating that it’s important to NAME it for what it is. The Predator, inside and out.
(Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright
Thank you, Sara, for this poem and the postscript. That’s nightmare, internally implanted. I want to invite you to my online events (to be in Mago Academy programs, you need Zoom use), an ultimate exorcism by diving into the Mother World/Root, the matriverse, collectively.
Dear Sara,
What a great poem. It is interesting you should post this now. A few weeks back I read a novel by Inga Simpson, an Australian writer, called The Last Woman in the World. It is a novel about climate catastrophe and a whole lot of sudden and unexplained deaths. The fear experienced by the dying is a critical part of the story and the survival of those who do manage to survive is about connection and overcoming fear. It is quite a hard book to explain. I don‘t know if it is available in the US as it is fairly new.